Arriving at the Governor’s house, instead of finding the mansion dark and everybody asleep he was surprised to observe a big crowd of ladies and gentlemen seated on the veranda, while strains of popular music from the ball room filled the air. Tompkins quickly asked for the Governor on important business and he noticed that there seemed to be some hesitancy in sending for him. Presently a lady, the Governor’s wife, came to the door.
“Won’t your business do in the morning?” was asked. Tompkins replied in the negative and the lady withdrew, a gentleman appeared to represent her. “The Governor has retired,” said this gentleman, “and cannot be disturbed until morning.”
Tompkins inquired for the private secretary and also for the Secretary of the Territory and ascertained that both these functionaries were out of town.
“Can’t you possibly awaken the Governor?” queried Tompkins.
“No. To tell you the truth about it, the Governor unfortunately drank a little too much wine and Warwick whiskey and he is dead to the world; a gatling gun would not arouse him, and he is absolutely off the face of the earth until nine o’clock in the morning,” was the information given young Tompkins.
“Then this glorious territory is at present without a Governor, private secretary, or Secretary of the Territory,” ejaculated Tompkins. As he wended his way back to the office, he had made up his mind what to do and proceeded to carry out his determination.
He called up Tin Cup and sent the following telegram: “To Lee Henniger, sheriff Dos Cabezas: The reprieve is granted to Robert Beecher for ten days. Regular papers go forward in the morning mail.” Signed, “H. Y. Smithers, Governor, per Paul G. Tompkins, acting Governor pro tem.”
Ten o’clock the next morning Paul Tompkins appeared at the capitol, telegram in hand, which he handed the Governor, who looked a wee bit groggy.
“Good Heavens!” said the Governor. “This telegram should have been delivered ten hours ago, why was it not?” and the Governor grew very much excited.
“For the reason, Governor, that you were ‘under the weather’ and couldn’t be wakened, and there was nobody in the city to attend to your business,” replied the placid Tompkins.